The Sharded Blade | Part 1 (A Dark Fantasy Novella)

Part 13

Another night, and the ritual grinding on my nerves continued. I corralled Carli's spirit once again, this time by the cabin in the forest.  When she appeared, she was still staring at the ominous tree under which her body was resting for all eternity.  I think she even took a step towards it.

"Come on," I said, breaking her out of an apparent trance.  What I really worried about was she was sensing her body and might be drawn to it.  That would have been bad.

Listening to me without even so much as a question, I led her back to the dilapidated inn that was my miserable residence as of late.  We didn't talk at all on the journey home, although I wanted to ask all sorts of questions of her.  Did she still like the color orange?  Was her doll, Neny, that's what she called the stuffed rabbit, still her favorite?  If not, when did she outgrow her love for it? Did she remember anything, anything at all, about her life before the day her mother and her left?

But I couldn't figure out how to do any of that without divulging what I already knew, or without sounding incredibly creepy.

She was obviously oblivious to the reality of the entire situation we both found ourselves in.  A condition which I determined had both good and bad points.

She was dead.  That was definitely one for the bad category.

She didn't know she was dead.  Which I chalked up as somewhat good, I guessed.

She didn't recognize me as her father.  That one really ate me up as the worst of the bad.  Even more so than the part about her being dead.

Again, that was mostly my fault though.  How could I blame her for my choices that led me to be separated from her for such an extended period of time?

We kept out of sight, Carli's spirit and me, until we were safely back inside and away from any possible prying eyes.  "I want to find the men who did this to you.  You need to give me something more to go on though," I stated once I had a small fire started in the central hearth. The flue didn't exactly draft well, and some of the smoke tended to linger, failing to get sucked up properly through the chimney if I started one that was too big.

She blinked.  I thought my offer was clear, but she didn't answer right away.

So I clarified my words and reasoning.  "This is a big city.  And dark-skinned men and bald pale-skinned guys aren't exactly remarkable descriptions when looking for someone."

"I didn't see much," Carli said.

"Anything? Other than the one guy's ear?"

"Uh—" the spirit pondered my request.  "Cats?"

"Cats?" I repeated.

She nodded.  "Cats. But not the normal-looking ones people usually keep as pets.  These ones were long and skinny. Like fuzzy snakes.  Yes. Two of the men had skinny, fuzzy snake cats tattooed on their arms.  And the hooded woman — she had one.  A live one."

Upon hearing this, I grabbed a stick with one end good and charred out of the fire. With eager energy, I used the blackened tip to scribble a drawing, best I could, of something I'd seen once.  Inside a circle upon the floor, leaving chunks of the blackness here and there as I pressed hard, I recreated a symbol bearing the likeness of the long, skinny 'cat' she had described.  Believe it or not, I actually had some artistic talent.  Comes from being a practiced forger, I supposed.

Carli pointed with eager recognition.  "Just like that!"

At her affirmation, I put down my improvised drawing implement, staring at the depiction of two ferrets intertwined like they were preparing to happily go about making more little ferrets.  It was the only thing that came to mind based on the description: the symbol of the Cult of Si.

Si was a Goddess of fertility.  Her followers were mostly men who liked the teaching that it was all well and good to spread their seed everywhere they went, often by force.  The Si Sisterhood, her priestesses who promoted the cult, were usually pretty eager for a good romp in the bedroom, the barn, in a back alley under the moonlight, in a field of daisies in broad daylight... pretty much wherever and whenever, themselves.

I was pissed, seething with hatred.  If one of those heathens had violated Carli in that way, I'd do more than just kill them in the most heinous manner possible.  I'd find a way to make their suffering as damn near eternal as I could.

The Cult of Si, despite being outlawed in this kingdom for the past decade, apparently had taken up new roots here and against that decree.  But the one thing I didn't realize was that they were into human sacrifices.  I must have missed that bit of information.

"Well," I conceded to my daughter's spirit, "that helps a lot.  The Cult of Si." I voiced my internal thoughts out loud.

"Never heard of them. But—"

I waved my hand, staving off any questions she might have.  "I'll find them.  I'll take care of them.  They're done hurting you."

That's when, like another chapter in my nightmare ending, she withered away again.